


Dead Boy Rising: Act 2

by Bandtrees, TheArtisticIntrovert



Series: Dead Boy Rising: JD/Veronica Swap AU [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Bomb threat, F/F, F/M, Homophobic Language, Minor Character Death, PoC Heather Duke, PoC JD, Suicide Attempt, Swap!AU, Threats of Violence, basically veronica and jd swap places, ie jd joins the heathers and veronica is the loner outcast, jd is less "burn down society" and more "go be emo somewhere else", veronica is basically canon veronica but dialed up to eleven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandtrees/pseuds/Bandtrees, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtisticIntrovert/pseuds/TheArtisticIntrovert
Summary: What if Veronica Sawyer was the mastermind? What if JD were the emo new kid, accidentally landing a spot with the coolest clique in school?A whole lotta shit, that's what.(Act 2 of a two-part rewrite, mixing movie and musical canon. Act 1 now up!)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bandtrees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandtrees/gifts).



> ok that summary sucked but give me a chance. this was supposed to be a drabble. less than 1k. now it's like, 6k. i'm Dying
> 
> also in this JD's like 4'6 so just imagine this tiny-ass gremlin in the last scene bc it's hilarious
> 
> Please excuse any continuity errors from Act 1, as this was written first.

“Ronnie, I-I’m just......I’m not sure this is a good idea, you know? Like, yeah, the popular people are jerks to us, b-but they’re not......that....bad? Once you get to know them?” Ronnie snorted, pushing the cylinder back into the revolver with her thumb.

 

“Trust me, JD. I’ve _‘gotten to know them’,_ and they’re just as bitchy to their ‘friends’ as they are to everyone else.” JD shifted, frowning and twisting his hands in the too-long sleeves of his coat.

 

“W-Well, yeah, but! They don’t deserve to _die!”_ he said, voice cracking slightly on the last word. The last thing he expected was for Ronnie to start laughing, her voice echoing slightly in the still of the cemetery.

 

“Dude, no! We ain’t gonna _kill_ them JD, what d’you take me for?” He frowned, clenching his fists harder. His knuckles started to turn white, a sharp contrast to his tanned skin unseen through the dark fabric.

 

“B-But! That’s.....a real gun?” he said, hopelessly confused. He felt a prickle on the back of his neck, but when he glanced behind him, nobody was there. He frowned slightly, turning his attention back on Ronnie when she continued speaking.

 

“Hey, JD, you ever take German?” He shook his head.

 

“Uh, no.....French, actually, why?”

 

“Well, these bullets? They’re not real. The gun’s real, yeah, but the bullets are this thing called ‘Ich Lüge’ bullets. The Nazis used them in WWII when the Russians invaded Berlin, to fake their suicides. They’ve got a super strong tranq in them, enough to knock out Kurt and Ram ‘til morning. Then, we can do.....I dunno, _something,_ to embarrass them enough to ruin their reputation the way they did yours! See, it’s just a harmless prank! Nobody gets hurt, trust me.” JD nodded, fears relieved for the moment. It _sounded_ plausible, at least!

 

“Still though......this could be dangerous, Ronnie. I’m not....as smart, or as........ _brave,_ as you are. How d’you know I won’t fuck everything up?” She laughed again, and privately, JD thought it sounded like tinkling bells.

 

“Don’t worry, JD! You just take this gun, hide in those bushes over there, and come out and shoot when I say two. I’ll take care of the rest.”

 

\--

 

“Well, I was _hoping_ that you could rip my clothes off me, _sport.”_  
  
He couldn’t believe he was doing this. One day he was the new kid at Westerburg High, then he bumps into the most popular girls at school and somehow managed to join their group? Honestly he wasn’t sure if he was just the Heathers’ mascot, their pity project, or what, but he was sure he wasn’t really their friend. Hell, he wasn’t sure if they were even friends with _each_ _other,_ let alone some newbie outsider.

 

“Count of three. One......”

 

Then there’s the whole mess with Ronnie. Alpha Heather’s death was an accident, but the fact remains that it was......probably his fault. He knew the drain cleaner was in that cup, but........he thought it wouldn't _really_ kill her. Just make her sick. He wasn’t the one who gave it to her, but.....he still felt a bit guilty.

 

He had to admit though, he didn’t miss her nasty comments about his appearance. At least Duke was on his side, telling Alpha Heather to lay off whenever she went too far.

 

“Two.....”

 

That’s his cue. He stood up, cocking the gun and moving to stand next to Ronnie, leveling the gun at Kurt’s head. It wouldn’t kill him anyway, right? Why not have some fun, scare him a little?  
  
Ronnie smirked, pulling out and cocking her own gun in one fluid motion. “Three.” He fired, but Kurt ducked and ran, heading towards the fence. Ram dropped to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut, blood leaking out of a hole in his neck. JD blinked, hoping it was fake.

 

It had to be, right? Ronnie wouldn’t lie to him, right?

 

Faintly, he could hear her chasing Kurt down, shouting something about the fence. He threw away the gun and dropped to his knees next to Ram, reaching out and feeling for a pulse with shaky hands. His throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls as he remembered the horrible, cruel song they’d shouted at him yesterday, punctuated by hard shoves and punches. The things they said......that he’d forced them to.....to _sleep with him,_ just because they didn’t like him.

 

He scowled, drawing his hand back. He probably wouldn’t find anything anyway, this was _designed_ to fake death. And it wasn’t like Ram didn’t deserve it. If anything, he deserved _worse_ than unconsciousness. JD stood up, dusting his hands off on his already dusty jacket. He turned his attention back to Ronnie, briefly taken aback at the blank look on her normally expressive face.

 

“The dinosaurs will turn to dust.....They’ll die because _we_ say they must....” If she said anything else, it was drowned out by the gunshot.

 

It was fake.........right?

 

\--

 

He licked his lips, shifting his weight and wringing his hands together. Say what you will about autumn and October 21st, it still got cold in the early morning. He looked up as Ronnie rejoined him, dragging Kurt’s (hopefully) unconscious body behind her by the leg. “Ronnie, when are they gonna wake up?” She shrugged, looking sheepish.

 

“Dunno. I, uh.....didn’t do as much research as I probably should’ve. I don’t have a computer, ok? Anyway, help me get them dressed.” He furrowed his brow, frowning.

 

“But......why? If we want to humiliate them, why are we getting them dressed again?” he asked, confused. She stiffened, an ugly scowl passing over her face for a fraction of a second before she relaxed again.

 

“You know what? You’re right. Let’s leave them here, just like this. Got a marker?” she asked, gesturing apologetically to her short exercise shorts. JD rummaged in his coat pockets before shaking his head.

 

“Sorry, only a couple of pencils.” He stiffened when he heard sirens, the prickly feeling coming back in earnest. Ronnie cursed violently, shooting to her feet.

 

 _“Fuck..._ JD, run! Get outta here, ok? I’ll catch up to you.”

 

“W-Why? They’re just asleep, right? We can explain it’s a prank!” Ronnie scowled, shoving him in the direction of the footpath.

 

“Dammit JD, we don’t have time for this! The cops are shoot first, ask questions later, especially when, no offense, someone like you is standing around in a trenchcoat next to two _bodies!”_ she hissed, giving him another shove.

 

She was right. He knew this, and yet......he still had a bad feeling. He didn’t get a chance to ask though, as he heard footsteps coming from behind him. “Fucking hell, JD! Just go home! I’ll call you later, promise!” Ronnie snapped, and this time, he listened. He ran until he couldn’t hear them anymore, then ran a bit more until he found a safe spot to hide.

 

He tucked himself up under a footbridge, huddling in the shadows and catching his breath. He hoped Ronnie cleared everything up soon. He had History homework.

 

\--

 

Ronnie took a moment to collect herself after sending JD away. She felt kind of guilty for what she was about to do, but some assholes were just beyond saving. She knew he agreed with her, too, though he’d been a tad too squeamish for outright murder. Still though, she had a good plan going. It was an unfortunate necessity that her plans included someone to take the fall, and even more unfortunate that it had to be Jason Dean. She liked the kid, was sure everyone, except Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney, liked him. She sighed, eyes hardening. No time to think. She had to run.

 

Ronnie sprinted off into the trees, in a different direction than JD. She gave it thirty seconds before looping around, slowing her pace and emerging from the trees just as the cops arrived. “Hey, Officers!” They turned to face her, the thinner one narrowing his eyes a bit suspiciously. She gasped for air, bracing her hands on her knees. “What’s......What’s goin’ on here? I heard gunshots!” she said, acting like she was out of breath.

 

The bald officer stood up, casting one more confused glance down at the bodies before turning to face her. Her back broke out into a cold sweat, though logically she knew that JD’s prints and _only_ JD’s prints would be found on the guns. Mainly because _her_ gun was still tucked away in the waistband of her shorts, hidden in the small of her back underneath her shirt.

 

“Well miss, before I answer that, I have to ask; what’re _you_ doing out here this early? I’d assume a pretty young thing like yourself would need her beauty sleep,” he said, with what looked suspiciously like a leer on his face. She forced herself not to scowl in disgust, instead, adopting an embarrassed posture.

 

“Well Officer, my mother wanted me to exercise this summer, to get trim for a swimsuit, you know? But after swimming season was over, I realized that I liked jogging, and kept with it. It’s fun, you know?” She looked up at him through her bangs, internally gagging. “But, Officer, you didn’t answer my question......what happened?” she asked, taking a step forward like she was gonna try and peer around them.

 

Thin Cop’s lips pressed together tightly, but he answered anyway. “We believe it was a murder, miss. So if you’d take a step back....” Ronnie’s eyes widened, and she stumbled back, falling to the ground.

 

“A-A murder?!” she whispered, tears beading up at the corners of her eyes. The internal gagging intensified, though she resolutely ignored it. Bald Cop nodded, a serious expression on his face.

 

“Indeed, miss. Have you seen any suspicious figures around here lately?” _Oh, you bet I have._

 

“U-Um, w-well.....I think I saw a k-kid in a trenchcoat running away.......that way....” she said, mentally apologizing to JD as she pointed in the direction he’d run. The cops exchanged a Look before Thin Cop started off in pursuit. Bald Cop stayed behind, extending a hand to help her up.

 

“I’m sorry miss, but if I could take you to the station? I believe we need to interview you. You aren’t in trouble, but right now you’re our sole witness, and the only one who saw the suspect. You understand.” Ronnie nodded. Oh, she understood _perfectly._

 

_‘Sorry, JD.’_

 

\--

 

“Hey, Jason!” JD winced, rubbing at his exhausted eyes before turning to glare at whichever Heather had called him. He’d been stuck under that bridge for _hours,_ and he hadn’t seen Ronnie since she sent him away, though he was pretty certain he’d seen a cop wandering around near his hiding spot. Upon turning, he realized it was Heather Duke who’d called him.

 

“Not in the mood, Duke. How many times do I gotta tell you to call me JD?” he snarked, yawning and downing another gulp of the coffee in his hand. Duke sneered, crossing her arms.

 

“About as many as I need to tell _you_ not to call me Duke!” she snapped, shoulders tensing. He allowed himself a little smirk behind his coffee cup, but it was quickly drowned out once again by the exhaustion. “Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. Keep it between us, but I heard that Kurt and Ram were found _dead_ this morning!” An evil smirk spread across her face, her eyebrow quirking dangerously. “I just feel _awful_ for you, Jason. I mean, they _did_ turn up dead after that little _argument_ you had with them yesterday, right?” His eyes narrowed, fear and panic speeding up his heart rate, hand tightening around his cup and crushing it slightly.

 

 _‘What does she know?!’_ He relaxed his grip on the cup, trying not to let her see how badly his hands were shaking. “W-What are you trying to say, Heather?” he asked, trying to swallow the robin’s egg that seemed to have taken up residence in his throat. Her smirk widened, seeming almost......predatory.

 

“Oh, nothing at all, Jason! Just that I’d be _careful,_ if I were you. After all, people in this school don’t take kindly to dark kids, homos, rapists, _or_ murderers!” Each insult was accompanied by one of her perfectly polished fingers, like red-tipped tally marks counting down to his doom. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and suddenly his stomach was churning so badly that he didn’t want to finish his coffee. An expression of obviously mock surprise replaced the sneer before it morphed into a pitying pout. “And it _seems_ like you might just be all four!”

 

“Why are you being such a bitch lately, Heather? What do you _want_ from me?” he asked quietly, looking around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. She chuckled.

 

“I don’t _want_ anything, darling, I _need_ you to stop hanging around us. Go hang out with that loser Veronica Sawyer, you two seem pretty chummy. Just don’t come around _us_ anymore, are we clear?” she said, voice sickly sweet. He glared at her, but nodded. Fine. Whatever.

 

“I knew that Heather _Chandler_ was the kind of backstabbing bitch to drop me at the first opportunity, but _wow_ Duke, somehow I _never_ expected this from _you!”_ he said sarcastically, locking eyes with her before slowly pouring the rest of his coffee down the front of her green cashmere blazer. He smirked vindictively, tossing the cup down at her feet. “Oops,” he said casually, before speedwalking away. He had maybe a five second headstart before she’d be after him.

 

It was still worth it though.

 

\--

 

The rest of the day went about as well as the beginning, honestly. He didn’t think Heather was telling the truth when she said that Kurt and Ram were dead, because it was just a prank, right? They’d probably wake up soon, hopefully with just enough brain trauma that they wouldn’t remember him or Ronnie being the ones who shot them. A small voice at the back of his mind worried what would happen to him if they really _were_ dead, but he elected to ignore it for now. Ronnie said it was just a tranquilizer, and he had no reason _not_ to trust her, so for now he wouldn’t say anything.

 

He sighed, shifting his position slightly and wincing when pain from his new bruises flared up. Sure, Kurt and Ram weren’t here to beat him up to gain favor from the remaining Heathers, but there were plenty of _other_ jocks who were more than happy to take their place. Well, after a little power play involving the runningback calling Duke a chink and Mcnamara punching him in the face, that is. He flinched slightly when the metal riser he was hiding under rattled slightly, but relaxed when he realized it was just Ronnie.

 

“Hey, where’ve you been all day? You didn’t ditch me, did you?” he asked, watching as she shimmied through the slats and joined him on the floor. She shook her head, pulling a brown paper bag out of her backpack.

 

“No, sorry. I had to run damage control. Apparently, some kid saw you running off when we were in the woods this morning. I had to find and convince her not to say anything, explaining it was a prank and that Kurt and Ram would wake up at some point,” she explained, pulling out a plastic-wrapped tuna sandwich and unwrapping it, splitting it in half and handing one piece to JD. He nodded, both in thanks and understanding, as he took the sandwich.

 

“She knows now though, right?” he asked, just to make sure. Ronnie nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich piece and swallowing before answering.

 

“Yeah, she gets it. I’m not sure if she’s the only one though, so if the cops come don’t be surprised. Hell, they might come anyway, thinking Kurt and Ram died or something.” She laughed, the soothing sound of her laugh bringing a dopey smile to his face and a light blush to his cheeks. God he loved this girl....

 

“Y-Yeah, right....That’d be silly, huh? I wonder if Miss Fleming would hold another pep assembly?” he said, taking a bite of his own sandwich. His sleeves slipped back as he lifted his arms up, and he winced at the sharp inhale from next to him. “Ronnie?” he asked, mumbling around a mouthful of bread.

 

“Who hurt you?” He tilted his head, confused as to why she cared so much. “JD, come on. Who do I gotta punch?” she asked, her previously dark tone changing into something lighter, though no less deadly. He shrugged, swallowing the bite.

 

“Dunno. I don’t know his name, though if you look for a musclebound meathead with a black eye and a split lip, that’d be him,” he said, remembering with vicious glee the look on the jock’s face when sweet Mcnamara had hauled off and punched him in defense of Duke. Sure, Duke chewed her out after, but he swore he could see a little blush on her cheeks. Maybe the Heathers _weren’t_ emotionless bitches, like everyone thought.

 

“A black eye?! JD, did you manage to get a pop in?” Ronnie asked, nudging him in the side and grinning mischievously. He ducked his head, blush intensifying a bit.

 

“Uh, no.....that wasn’t me. Mcnamara punched him after he called Duke a chink. I mean I only heard what was going on because she practically screamed it, and I was at my locker at that particular point in time. The Heathers.......don’t want me hanging around them anymore,” he said, looking away. Ronnie raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why not?”

 

He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter, in his opinion _ugly_ compared to Ronnie’s. “Because I’m the ‘homo rapist’ who may or may not have killed the two biggest douchebags in the school, as far as they know.” He scowled, picking the crust off his sandwich and ignoring the crumbs that made their way under his nails. “Not many people like me right now, I bet. ‘Cept you, Ronnie. Because you know what really happened!” he said, smiling up at her. It was different from his usual smile, though not by much. It was only because his eyes were closed that she didn’t feel that familiar shiver of unease crawling up her spine.

 

“Yeah, I am....I promise, JD. Once this all blows over, we’ll make sure you’re back to the school sweetheart. Got that? I promise, and I don’t break my promises.”

 

\--

 

History was awful. He hadn’t done his homework, Mr. McKinnon kept glaring at him, and he was stuck for an hour in a room full of people who hated him. Goodie.

 

JD was uncomfortably aware of the whispers and hostility in the room, though for once it wasn’t directed solely at him. He only managed to catch a few of the whispers, but what he heard made him break out in a cold sweat.

 

_“Did you hear?”_

 

_“........Mcnamara, on Hot Probs?”_

 

_“.........such a........baby!”_

 

That was apparently the last straw, as Mcnamara stood up from her desk so quickly her chair tipped over before she rushed out of the room. He hesitated for a second before going after her, ignoring McKinnon’s yells for them to come back.

 

He saw Mcnamara slip into the girls bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her. He hesitated once more, glancing up and down the hallway. Nobody could see him, but he couldn’t be too careful. This was something he could be suspended for, after all.

 

He pushed open the door quietly, eyes widening as he spotted Mcnamara by the sinks, fumbling with a pill bottle.

 

“Stupid child-proof caps!” she screamed, voice choked with tears as she slammed the bottle against the tap. The plastic split, little purple pills scattering everywhere. JD’s blood ran cold.

 

_Morphine._

 

He burst into the room, startling Mcnamara badly enough that the few pills she’d managed to put in her mouth fell out onto the floor, clattering uselessly by their brothers. _“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING_ **_MIND?!”_ ** he screeched, dragging her away from the pills. She sat down hard against the wall, curling away from him in a little ball, like she was afraid of him.

 

“G-Go away! Why do you care?! Why are you even _in_ here?!” she screamed, lashing out with her heel. Her sneaker caught him in the gut and he doubled over, but refused to back away.

 

“You’re my _friend,_ Heather! Even if Duke doesn’t like me or want me around anymore, I still care about you! About _both_ of you!” He swallowed tears, cursing the fact he was an angry crier. “The rumors about me aren’t true! Please, I don’t know what made you think this is a good idea, or why Duke changed so bad after Chandler died, and I don’t even know _why_ you thought this was a good idea!” He raked a hand through his hair, tears dripping off his face and spotting the collar of the light blue button-down they’d insisted he wore. “But I promise, if you think that nobody out there cares about you, remember that _I_ care about you!” Her lip wobbled, and her eyes went glassy with tears, but she didn’t say anything. He was about to stand up again when her foot impacted him in the gut again, right over a particularly nasty patch of bruises from earlier, coincidentally also from people kicking him in the ribs. He coughed in surprise, doubling over and clutching his gut while she scrambled to her feet.

 

“Just....Just.....Just stay away from me, Jason!” she yelled, sobbing as she ran out. He shivered in pain, not looking forward to trying to move.

 

At least she wasn’t dead. He counted that as a win.

 

\--

 

 _“Heather, it’s me. Uh......Jason.”_  
  
_“Jason? What do you want? I’m trying to study.”_  
  
_“Y-Yeah, about that......I....I need to talk to you about something. It’s really important. Like, life and death important.”_  
  
_“Well do it fast. You probably don’t remember, but I **do** have a German exam I need to study for.” _  
  
_“.........yeah that’s actually part of it. Uh.......do...do you know what ‘Ich lüge’ means?”_

_“Ich lüge?.......yeah hang on, let me think.”_

_“Alright.”_  
  
_“Ich lüge.......Ich lüge.......Well, ‘Ich’ means I, and I **think** that lüge means lying? So.......I’m lying.” _  
  
_“FUCK! Fuck, are you kidding me? Heather, tell me this is a joke. You’re joking, right?”_  
  
_“Hell no! Why are you flipping out, anyway?”_  
  
_“Oh god....Oh god oh god oh god.....”_  
  
_“Jason? Jason! Hey, JD! Don’t pass out on me, I want an explanation!”_

_“..........”_  
  
_“I know you’re still there, I can hear you breathing.”_  
  
_“.................Ronnie lied to me.”_  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“She told me it was a prank! That they were tranqs, that they’d wake up! God, Heather.....I think I really **did** kill Kurt and Ram.................she told me they were fake......”_

_“And you **believed** her?! Jason that’s a whole new kinda stupid, even for you.” _

_“Wow, **thanks.”** ****_  
****  
_“Shut up dickbag, I’m not done. Listen, Veronica Sawyer is bad news. Lemme ask you something: Do you think you love her?”_  


_“What? Heather what’s this abo—”_

_“Answer the damn question, JD! Do you think you love her or not?!”_

_“W-Well, yeah, of course! She’s so nice to me, and sweet, and kind, and everyone likes her! Why wouldn’t I love her?”_

_“Shit.......Okay, JD, honey, I need you to listen real careful, alright?”_

_“Okay....?”_  
  
_“Veronica used to date Mcnamara. Like, they were going steady in an under-the-table relationship for years, but then one day Mcnamara came over to my house sobbing because she and Veronica broke up. She told me that Veronica was scaring her, that Veronica hated her friends, and that she was scared that she’d do something terrible. That Veronica would make **her** do something terrible. It was around then that Chandler kicked Veronica out of the group, a couple days before you started school.” _  
  
_“Oh my god.......”_

_“Yeah. So, whatever you’re doing with her? You need to stop. Like, yesterday. I know I’m a bitch to you at school but **dammit** JD I still care about you, you little shit. Also you owe me for the coat.” _

_“Yeah.....Thanks, Heather. And.....sorry.”_  


_“It’s alright. I’ll just take it out of your pride tomorrow after the pep rally.”_

_“I’ll.....hold you to that.”_  
  
_“You better.”_

 

\--

 

So, it had come to this. He didn’t know what Ronnie told his dad, but now he refused to let him anywhere near the kitchen, the basement, or basically anywhere that _wasn’t_ his bedroom. Something about depression, or paranoia, or _something._ So, instead of being able to talk to Heather in the den to ease his nerves, he was pacing his room like a caged animal. A knock on the door startled his heart into his throat, his pulse pounding frantically in his ears.

 

He dove into the closet, pulling the door shut and securing it with a little latch on the inside. The outside had a similar latch, but the two weren’t connected. He knew it wouldn’t stop her for long though, he had to think of something, and think of it fast, if he wanted to make it out of this closet alive.

 

“JD? Are you in here?” Ronnie called, her voice getting nearer, and nearly drowning out the sound of the door opening. “Hey, your light’s on. I know you’re around here _somewhere.”_ He accidentally let out a terrified whimper, watching her sillhouette with wide eyes through the slats on the door. She sighed, shaking her head. “Wow, hiding in the closet? _That’s_ original. Why are you hiding, anyway?”

 

“G-Get out of my house!” he snapped, trembling violently and huddling further into the corner.

 

“Hey, that’s no way to treat a guest! Your dad let me in, something about helping you heal?” She sounded so honest......He hated it. JD swallowed, glaring at her feet. “Well, would it make you feel better if I explained some things?”  


“Nothing you say could make me feel better, but if you wanna monologue, who am I to stop you?” he said sarcastically, anger covering up his fear. She made a startled noise, then laughed quietly. He hated the way her laugh still made him blush.

 

“Well, see, it was all just a test! I wanted to know how they’d react to obvious lies, if they’d ask the person about it or if they’d just straight up turn on them.” Her voice darkened, and she started pacing the length of his room. “Turns out, they really are the selfish assholes I thought they were.” His eyes widened in anger, and he almost burst out of the closet right then to punch her in the face. Ruining his life was an _experiment?!_ “So anyway, I decided they don’t get another second chance. I’m gonna do what I _should’ve_ done at the start of the school year. Block the doors, douse the grounds in gasoline, and light the fucker on fire. Then we can start over! A _new_ Westerburg, rising from the ashes of the old, like a phoenix born anew! C’mon, JD, whaddya say?”

 

“You’re insane! I-I.....Duke was right! You really _are_ bad news!” he gasped out, tears blurring his vision. Her pacing stopped, and she turned to face the closet door slowly.

 

 _“I’m_ insane? Ha, that’s rich, coming from you, Jason. _I’m_ not the one who killed Heather Chandler. _I’m_ not the one who killed Kurt and Ram.”

 

“Yes you are! You literally shot the gun that killed them!” She laughed again, tapping her fingers on her legs and looking away bashfully.

 

“Oh, you and I know that, but who’s gonna believe you? I’m just poor little outcast Veronica Sawyer, and _you’re_ a suspicious figure in a trenchcoat. It’s okay though, Jason! We can still do this together! C’mon, I _know_ you want all of them to go away as much as I do!”

 

“Y-Yeah, but I never wanted to _kill_ them! I just wanted them to........mysteriously vanish, and never come back.”

 

“That’s what death does, Jason. Come on, use your brain.”

 

“A-Anyway! Why are you even here?!” She walked over to the closet and placed her hand on the handle, though she didn’t attempt to open it.

 

“I just want to help you, Jason. Come on, I’m the only one you can trust now! Everyone else hates you!” JD scowled, cowering back in the corner.

 

“Who’s fault is that?! You’ve ‘helped’ _enough,_ Ronnie. Just leave me alone!” he yelled, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. She banged her fist on the door once, but then turned away.

 

“Fine. Tomorrow, at two pm. My free period. That’s when the school goes up in flames. Good luck stopping me, now that nobody’s on your side anymore.” She chuckled, a dark, low sound so unlike her normal laugh. “Did I mention the police made an announcement this morning at school? They said they had a suspect for Kurt and Ram’s deaths, one Jason Andrew Dean. Plus, they want to reopen Heather Chandler’s case file. Something about new evidence?” She smirked, still chuckling, before stepping away from the closet. “Have fun in the closet, JD.”

 

He waited until the door opened and closed once more before he broke down, his muffled sobs sounding ten times louder in the confines of the closet. He’d never wanted his mother more than right now.

 

\--

 

It took all night, but he did it. He had a plan to stop Ronnie, though it involved some.......unpleasantness. He’d have to use the hatred of himself to his advantage, for one. This would truly ruin his reputation.

 

He swallowed, trying to wet his parched throat as he picked up the electrical tape with shaking hands. He held the package to his chest with one hand, taping it securely around his ribs and checking to make sure it wouldn’t fall off before pulling on his coat and shoes. Just like he’d assumed, even trimmed and tailored the huge coat hid his chest perfectly. He threaded the wire through his sleeve, letting it dangle near his hand until he needed it.

 

Time to go stop Ronnie.

 

“Heads up Ronnie, I’m coming for you. I’ll stop you, no matter what,” he whispered to himself, making sure to close the button on his coat so it wouldn’t open before heading to the den to phone Duke.

 

\--

 

It’s time. 12 noon, everyone should be in the cafeteria for another thirty minutes. _Everyone,_ including faculty, security......and Ronnie. He bit his lip, shoving down his nerves and schooling his expression into a determined scowl, palming the button attached to the wire. He kicked the doors open, and they slammed against the walls with a loud bang. Everyone jumped, turning to watch him as he stalked to the front of the cafeteria. He shoved Peter’s fundraising stuff off the table, clambering up and glaring out at the silent cafeteria, releasing the button on his coat and letting the bomb be seen. He held up his right hand, showing off the trigger.

 

“Give me Veronica Sawyer and I’ll leave you alone. Hide her from me, and I’ll blow up this entire cafeteria. Got it?!” he snapped, sneering at the pale, shaking faces staring up at him. His knees were trembling, but he hoped it couldn’t be seen. When nobody spoke, he snarled. “Look, am I not speaking fucking English?! I have a fucking bomb and I’m not afraid to use it! What, can you not see it or something?!” he snapped, before shedding his coat. Someone screamed, apparently realizing he wasn’t joking. He laughed, loud and maybe a touch hysterical. Adrenaline was racing through his veins, making his head all fuzzy. “Now that we’re all on the same page, where the _fuck_ is Veronica Sawyer?!” he snarled, baring his teeth.

 

As one, the students turned to the back of the room, where Ronnie was sitting at a table against the wall, wide-eyed with a french fry hanging out of her mouth. She was sat next to Betty Finn and Martha Dunnstock, who was currently in a neck brace and an electric wheelchair. He grinned darkly, hopping off the table and striding over to her. “Nobody try and play hero. I’m not in the mood.” He grabbed her arm, leaning in close to her ear. “I decided to handle things myself instead of being a fucking pussy. Come with me to the football field, or stay here. I don’t care. Either way, we both die.”

 

Ronnie smirked, though it was hidden by her hair and the way she was staring at the table. “A-Alright, alright! I’ll come with you, j-just don’t hu-urt anybody else!” she said, voice shaky, like she was about to break out into tears. She lifted her head, tears glistening in her eyes as she gave Martha and Betty a shaky smile. Martha looked like she wanted to stop her, but hesitated when JD glared at her.

 

“Don’t even try it, Martha. I know you’ve thought I was bad from the start, so don’t give me a reason to drag you out with Veronica.” An empty threat, but an effective one. Martha swallowed hard, relaxing in her chair. Ronnie stood up, half-following, half-leading him out of the cafeteria. He kept a tight grip on her arm with his left hand, his right still clutching the switch in a sweaty grip.

 

She led him past the security desk, and suddenly started screaming. He cursed loudly, jumping and almost losing his grip on the switch. _“HELP!_ OH GOD, SOMEONE HELP! HE WANTS TO KILL ME!” she screamed, sobbing hysterically. One old security guard poked his head out of the office before slamming a button on his console that caused an alarm to go off, the doors all automatically locking. JD cursed again, glaring up at her.

 

“SHUT UP! WHAT THE _HELL_ DID YOU DO?!” he snarled, tightening his grip. She sobbed harder, struggling against him. It, much to his shame, worked. He lived off of a diet of 7-11 slushies and cigarettes, he just wasn’t as fit as she was. “HEY! VERONICA GET BACK HERE DAMMIT!” he yelled, taking off after her. She was already halfway back to the cafeteria when he tripped over his shoelace, flying down the hall and by some stroke of luck, grabbing her ankle  and stumbling her. She went down hard, cracking her nose on the linoleum. He panted, pushing himself to his feet and planting a foot in her back.

 

“What’re you gonna do now, Jason? I’m too strong for you to drag me away, the students are all stuck in the cafeteria over there, and there’s nowhere to run. Face it! You lost! Either way, I get what I want!” He scowled, letting go of the switch for a second to wipe his hand before grabbing it again.

 

“Honestly Ronnie? As long as you die, I’m not sure I care. I need to stop you from hurting anyone else. This world is rotten, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you need to burn down an entire high school!” He pushed back his bangs with his free hand, frustrated. “We’re _teenagers,_ Ronnie! We haven’t grown up yet! We’re _all_ assholes! You are, I am, even your friends are! Blowing up Westerburg isn’t going to fix society, but it’s gonna do more harm than good. I just wanted _you_ to stop, and if that meant I had to take you out with me, then so be it!” he snapped, pressing his foot down harder into her back when she tried to get up. He kneeled down next to her, replacing his foot with his knee.

 

“So what?! There’s no way to get what you want without giving me what _I_ want! You lose already, just accept it!” He chuckled, the chuckle turning into a laugh, then a hysterical cackle.

 

“How stupid do you think I _am?!_ I came prepared, Ronnie. My dad’s a hunter, you know. It was almost stupid easy to sneak out one of his handguns from the den.” He slipped it out of the waistband of his jeans, pressing the barrel to the back of her head. “Sorry Ronnie, no time for eulogies. Rest assured, they won’t forget you.” He cocked the gun, taking a steadying breath.

 

“Goodbye, Ronnie.”

**Author's Note:**

> blame thefreshprinceofnightmares it's his fault for getting me into this fandom ollie you lil fucker if ur reading this i want to say thank you i love you and also fuck you


End file.
